From the Ice
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Agent Coulson becomes prisoner to Frost Giants. After his rescue, he has nightmares and fits of the chills. Naturally, this leads to snuggling and Pheels, not to mention a few confessions. I can't stop Capsicouling. Somebody help me! Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this. Background pairings. Rated T to be safe.


"From the Ice"

The first sensation was pain; then there was cold. Phil long suspected that death would be cold, but that was probably because Captain America had drowned in the Arctic, so he associated the two, ever since he first heard about the international hero when he was a child. It just made sense that Phil was dying, with the sharp feeling in his back and the ice surrounding him.

But that… that didn't make sense. Why would he be surrounded by ice? Well, at least that meant he wasn't in Hell.

He reached around and touched where Loki had obviously stabbed him. But the pain was fading, and when he brought his hand around, there was no blood. In fact, it felt like the material hadn't even been pierced. Which begged the question, what happened?

More than that… where _was_ he?

* * *

"Where _is_ he?" Tony murmured, staring at the footage. Thor reported that Loki had made Phil disappear before his very eyes, and the shots taken by the security cameras merely confirmed this; they didn't say anything about what the agent's fate had been. There was no blood, and no trace of him. Just the Destroyer gun lying on the floor; it'd knocked Loki over when it accidentally went off and sped backwards with the force, and Tony fully planned to post that video on Youtube later.

"Can you trace his phone?" Fury asked.

"JARVIS is doing that, Four-Eyes."

"Your sense of irony is uncanny," Fury said dryly. "Let me know the _second_ you hear anything, you got it, Stark?"

"Aye-aye, Cap'n."

"Tony, you shouldn't wind him up like that," Steve said. He was in one corner of the Helicarrier's lab while Tony searched the footage. Bruce was meditating in the opposite corner; he'd been doing that on and off ever since pictures of him hulking out had made it onto the internet and gone viral.

"Anything to get him out of here," Tony said. "Now stop distracting me. We don't know where he is, so we don't know how long we have to get to him before he…" He swallowed, and kept going back over the footage and examining Selvig's notes on the Tesseract.

"It crosses dimensions," Bruce said. Tony and Steve looked over at him. He cracked open one eye. "The sceptre's connected to the Tesseract; the Tesseract helps people cross dimensions. Agent Coulson's probably in another dimension." He closed his eye again, and went back to meditating, brow creased further. "We need Thor's help for this, and he's busy with… _Loki_." He said the name like it was a swear word. Tony was surprised that Steve didn't blush, or generally look horrified. But the super soldier's expression was blank.

"Right," Steve said. "I'll talk to Thor. He's met Agent Coulson before; neither Bruce nor I knew him until the other day."

"How will that help?"

"I'm not saying that that makes me more qualified to convince him, just that he's known the agent longer."

"And he's known his brother for centuries," Bruce muttered. When they looked at him again, he seemed serene.

"I'll be back," Steve said. "Keep searching, Tony. We need him back."

After he left, Tony turned back to the screens.

"And he only knew him for a couple of hours," he said.

"If anything happened to him, I don't think Steve would ever forgive himself."

"Whatever you say, Jade Jaws."

Bruce grunted. Tony almost missed his half-smile.

* * *

If Phil thought the pain in his back – no matter how temporary – had been bad, it was nothing compared to what these giants were putting him through. Arms and legs being pulled to their limits, and nearly beyond, wasn't too bad. But before he could even start to recover from the burning stretches, his outer clothes were torn off and he was thrown into a freezing cold lake, where his exhausted limbs couldn't support him.

He was pulled out before he could sink more than two feet, flogged with some kind of three-pronged whip, then thrown back in before he had time to think, or even register more pain. That was when he felt the sting of something like salt in the water, and choked on half a lungful when he screamed. It was rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, until he could no longer feel any pain at all. He almost felt warm.

Then the heat began. The huge, blue creatures – Frost Giants like Loki, maybe? – had lit some kind of magical fire, and were now suspending him over it. Pins and needles ripped through him as he defrosted, and he briefly wondered if Captain Rogers had felt like this when he was coming to. Icy hands rubbed his skin, and the contrast in temperatures was agony. It didn't help that they were reminding him of the lacerations over his torso, legs, and arms.

After he was nearly at melting point, he was taken away, and thrown into the cave where he had awakened. His tattered clothes lay nearby. Frost rose from the ground, covering the entrance to the cavern. He had no idea whether they had just cut off his only source of oxygen, and was faintly impressed that he could still (kind of) think rationally. He'd been through different kinds of torture before – maybe even worse – but not for years. And knowing that he was worlds away from home, it made everything seem worse. There was little to no hope of rescue.

Determined not to die nearly naked – and relieved that nothing worse had been done – he tugged the tattered trousers on over his shoes and socks, then his shirt, and then jacket. If someone came for him, he could at least use his tie for a weapon. And his cell phone was still intact, along with anything else which had been ripped off.

"Thank God for SHIELD training," Phil rasped, gathering everything into his lap. His mind was slowly shutting down, and he knew that the less movement he made, the better, assuming anyone thought to look for him here before he succumbed to his injuries and the bitter co…

* * *

The Jötuns refused to say where Phil was, but it was easy enough to work out when they kept leading the Avengers in one direction. Tony blasted his way in the other direction, with his magic-enabled suit finally, _finally_ picking up the signal. He crashed right through the ice into the cave. Despite the difference in climate, he was reminded of his imprisonment in Afghanistan, and swept Phil up in his arms, making sure not to let any of his things fall, especially the tazer.

"Got you now, buddy," he said. Phil's lips were turning blue, and Tony knew there wasn't time to check for a pulse. They had to get out of there. Now.

He weaved around and between the combatants, making sure that his team-mates all saw Phil, safe and (hopefully) sound. They all made their way to Thor's side. Steve kept them crowded behind his shield as best he could while Natasha and Clint pocketed Phil's things. At the very last moment, they all turned, grabbed onto the Tesseract, and returned to Earth.

* * *

SHIELD wanted Phil to recuperate with them; Tony won out. Actually, his story was that he sent Pepper to talk to Fury, and that's why Phil was staying at the Avengers Tower. Pepper never contradicted it, and Fury made no comment.

The fact that Pepper and Natasha were such good friends was a terrifying prospect.

Bruce did his best with Phil, pumping his veins with antibiotics, stitching the many frayed cuts, and just doing his best to fix his patient. He recognised whip marks, and had to take the occasional thirty-second break to calm his heart rate. He hated the thought of Agent Coulson going through this. From what others had been saying, he sounded like a great man, and Bruce wanted a chance to work with him.

He was on Bruce's side, after all. That was enough to make him a good man, in his books. Yet…

The doctor was worried. Nearly a week had passed, and Phil was spending some time awake every passing day; but he would get chills at least twice a day, usually at night. They were often accompanied by nightmares. The only way he seemed to calm down was when someone held him. This was easier when Bruce was keeping him in a medically-induced coma, to give his injuries time to heal. But now that he could wake on his own, it took a bit of strength to restrain him whenever he tried to attack whoever was touching him.

So he started a roster. Phil responded best to people he knew well, which included Clint and Natasha, and even Tony and Pepper. Fury, Hill, and Sitwell stayed with him sometimes, especially if Pepper was on Hug Duty.

It was more difficult for him to settle with Thor, Steve, or Bruce; he'd had the least contact with them, and only strength (Steve and Thor) and sedatives (Bruce) worked in their favour. At least, until Phil grew used to their presence while he slept. But that would take several weeks.

* * *

"Hey, Phil," Pepper whispered, squeezing his hand. He was beginning to shake already, so she slipped onto the bed behind him. Tony sighed, then crawled on the other side.

"You know, it's kind of a pity he's asleep, and we're all clothed," he remarked. Pepper gave him a withering look, and cuddled Phil closer. "Oh, I'm serious. Maybe that's something we can suggest to him when he's fighting fit again?"

"You do that, Tony Stark, and I'll…" She trailed off, raising an eyebrow. "Actually, that's not a bad idea."

"Hey, wait, I didn't actually mean it!"

Pepper laughed softly, and shuffled still closer. Tony frowned, annoyed that he had just been played. Or that she was serious. But he wrapped his arms around two of the most important people in his life, and promised everything would be okay.

* * *

Natasha was never very comfortable with contact. She was just very good at pretending otherwise.

"You know I don't want to do this," she said, glancing over at Phil. He was only semi-conscious, drifting in and out. "You'd better get better soon." She sheaved her knife when Phil laughed weakly, then began to shiver again. For all her talk, Natasha immediately leapt onto the bed with feline grace. Clint, who was keeping watch in the ceiling above, dropped down behind her.

"Should I get Banner?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Just help me hold him," she said. "He'll feel safe with us."

"He's probably the only one."

"Shut up and help me, Clint."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Everyone knew that whenever Thor was looking after the Son of Coul, he would regale him with tale after tale of his adventures with Sif and the Warriors Three (and Loki, though he would pause, then avoid mentioning him). This was thousands of years worth of stories, apparently, so there was a never-ending supply. They could hear him from the shared living space.

If Phil had a nightmare, Thor would stop speaking for a couple of minutes, and then continue his story-telling, in a quieter voice.

Bruce took work into the room, getting done whatever he could in the quiet of Phil's bedroom. It also got him away from Tony's attempts to get him to hulk out whenever they were working together in his lab.

More and more, Phil was conscious while people visited; and while they never told each other what they talked about, invariably they would leave his bedroom happier, and more reassured that he was getting well. There were still days when he slept, but they were less frequent, as were the nightmares.

* * *

One of the rare sleeping days, Steve simply watched Phil, rather than sketching, or trying to learn more about the modern world. He couldn't help thinking about the reversal of their situations, and the similarities and differences. Both had almost died in the line of duty – been thought dead – because of chances they took to make the world a better and safer place. Sacrifices they had made. They had been frozen (in Steve's case, literally).

But while Steve had 'not-drowned', Phil had been tortured first, then left to perish from his injuries or frostbite. And Steve had been missing for seventy years, while Phil was rescued within hours, and had old friends around. Also, Steve was Phil's hero, and the reason for all he did.

On second thought, though, Phil was now Steve's hero, and the reason for his joining the Avengers.

But Phil… Phil seemed to have a crush on Steve. That was a difference, right?

The agent stirred, eyelids fluttering, before they opened halfway. Steve sat on the bed beside him, smiling.

"I'm still watching you," he said.

"While I'm unconscious from the ice?"

"Yeah. I can't wait until you're back to work. Commander Fury wants you to stay with us, and work on the Avengers Initiative." He touched Phil's hand. "It'll be an honour to serve with you, sir."

Phil laughed. "I've never dreamed this before."

"No," Steve said, sobering. "Usually you have nightmares."

"Mmm." Phil turned his hand over so that their palms met, and his fingers curled around Steve's. "I prefer this."

So he was only semi-conscious.

"Tell me what you usually dream about," he said, encouraging Phil to talk.

"Nightmares, or dreams about you?"

"Anything."

"Right." Phil nodded slowly, eyes still only partially opened. "Okay. I'd rather talk about you. Much nicer." He drew out the last two words, and Steve couldn't stop himself from blushing. "I dream that we start out as friends. We've already done that now – I think. Have we?"

"Of course. We discussed this last time you were awake."

Phil smiled. "Yeah. I remember that, even n'sleep. Then we're on a mission one day, and I ask you to drinks after the debrief. When you walk me back to my room – here, usually – you kiss me." He chuckled. "You didn't know it wasn't supposed to be a date. But I don't care. I've been in love with you ever since I saw you… while you were unconscious… from the ice." Steve touched his cheek as he began to nod off. He didn't want to miss the rest of this, and Phil needed to think of something nice.

"Keep going," he said.

"…Okay." Phil yawned, but he continued. "I don't invite you in. You shouldn't be taken to bed on a first date." Steve blushed again. "Marry you if I could. But that's usually the end of the dream. You propose to me, you know? Pepper cries at the wedding. Sometimes Natasha does, too. That's why I always know it's a dream."

"What happens before that?"

"More dates. Just little bits of them. They sort of all merge into one. Dreams do that, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do." Steve stroked his cheek. "When do I tell you how I feel about you?"

"Fourth or fifth date. Sometimes earlier, sometimes later." Phil shrugged. His eyes were starting to look clearer. "Then we sleep together for the first time. Just sleep, though. We wake up cuddling. Best sleep I've had in years."

Steve was having trouble breathing at a normal rate. "And what's our wedding like?"

"We get married in the biggest room in the Avengers mansion. Pepper makes sure it's tasteful. We're both in white suits. No one knows that I've never… you know." His cheeks turned pink. "Always dreamed about Captain America being my first. Now I just dream about Steve Rogers. Like now." He smiled dreamily, eyes still half-closed.

"And then we kiss?" Steve whispered.

"We do."

He couldn't help himself. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Phil's. After a couple of seconds of shock, the agent wound an arm around Steve's neck, his other elbow propping him up to get closer. Steve used both his arms to hold himself over Phil, not wanting to risk hurting him if he slipped on the covers. It was so nice, he didn't want it to stop.

He wasn't the one who ruined things.

"My turn to watch Age… Oops. Never mind," Tony said, grinning from the doorway. Steve hadn't even heard the door open. He twisted around and glared at the billionaire.

"You haven't heard of knocking?" he asked waspishly.

"Hey, I didn't know I'd be interrupting anything," he said, raising his hands. He kept smirking. "Want me to come back later?"

"I… I…" Steve looked down as Phil stuttered. He was so red in the face, eyes wide, that he was barely recognisable from the usually cool SHIELD agent. His gaze snapped to Steve, then to Tony. "What…"

"Calm down, Phil," Steve said, touching his chest. Phil scooted back, and he was trembling again. It reminded Steve of one of his nightmares, or fits of the chills, and he reached out again. Phil shook his head.

"N-no, don't," he said.

"Please stop. You might hurt yourself."

"I'll get the doc," Tony said. Steve scowled at him over his shoulder.

"You do that," he said. As Tony left, he turned back to Phil. "Look at me?"

"I'm sorry," Phil mumbled. "I'm calm now."

"Promise?"

"Yes, Captain."

"What? No, no," Steve said, frowning. "Don't call me that. I thought you were calling me 'Steve'?"

"That's before I told you everything," Phil said. He curled up, knees to his chest. "I'm sorry."

"Don't _say_ that! Phil, all those things you dream about, I want all those things, too. Okay, so you weren't really awake for our first kiss. But you'll be awake for all the others."

"You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm not what you want."

"You're wrong," Steve said. He smiled. "You're everything I admire in a person, and more. Things I'd never even thought about. You're brave, and smart, and level-headed – usually – and I think Clint called you a 'bamph'? He told me it's a compliment." Phil chuckled. "You're kind as well. And so many people think you're a robot or something, but I know better. And I want to get to know you better. Kissing you from time to time would just be a bonus."

"I just don't want it not to be true," Phil said softly. "And I don't want you to think that my feelings are just a crush on Captain America, because they're not. I admire him a lot, but it's Steve Rogers… it's _you _I love."

Steve smiled, and kissed Phil again.

This time, when Tony walked in on them, he didn't say anything. He just pushed Bruce back and shut the door quietly behind them.

* * *

**And so ends another flipping Capsicoul. I keep coming up with ideas for this pairing. Ridiculous, really. I get like this with pairings occasionally. Sigh.**


End file.
